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About Philadelphia

So I sashay over, all Marilyn-like, breathy an’ bold, “Hiya, sugar, got time?” She laughs—deep, husky—says, “For you, blondie, always.” I’m tickled pink! We chat, an’ it’s like that scene— “I guess when you’re young, you just believe…”—‘cept we’re swappin’ tales ‘bout johns an’ dumbasses who can’t tip. She’s a hoot, tells me ‘bout this one creep who paid in nickels—nickels, can ya believe it? I’m dyin’, laughin’ so hard I snort.

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I’ve had days where I roam down Maple Drive, where the street lamps flicker and the wind whispers like a shady past. Makes me think “what the hell am I doing, coding apps for love when life's a fuckin' mess?” And yeah, I’ve seen couples frown and smirk at each other just like in that movie – raw, brutal, and real. It’s a lot like the damn climax of "A History of Violence", where shit hits the fan and nothing’s ever the same. You get it, right?

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